This is a song about "Rims"

And i ain't puttin' no rims on it, when it's five hundred ya ride factory

That's gon' make it hard to smile in the futurebut through whatever you see

Magic johnson money but i ain't got no rims

I'm throwing them rocks back, with the fury of bullets

Nose round like the wheels that my rims spin on

It's cole, won't lie, won't stop 'til the race is won

From golden rings to them 17 inch rims

Well, i have a gram cupcake mix

Me rolling// in lamborghini rims previously stolen//and watch you gasp at my

In case i don't get intell all my people i'm a ridahnobody cries when we die

Of my dick, head, melon off and let it rip

Iced rims, custom ish, sounding like a fatter whip

Spinning like my many rims through the air,

They tryin to say that i don't care

Rims, henny, and reminisce

I treat bitches straight up, like simon says